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Here is my story, it's quite long, but I think it will benefit all ST posters who are faced with the same problem I was....
My birthday is December 11, 1981. I turned 18 in 1999. My whole life I have known something was wrong..just didn't' know what. So the week after my birthday and before christmas, I spent hours on the net looking up stuff on depression and anxiety. When I finally convinced myself that my problem wasn't going away, I talked to my friend and mentor, Karen, DVM veterinarian..about it and she agreed not to tell my parents about my problem and she would go with me to the free clinic to get help. So that week I went to the free clinic, loaded with information about what was bothering me and the doctor agreed to put me on paxil.
Well, I stayed on a low dose of paxil for about three weeks with out anyone but my closest friends knowing. Then I crashed big time. I had the bottle of sleeping pills all ready and all i had to do was get the correct dose.
I experimented and gave out hints to everyone. Finally someone got the message. The guidance counselors in school told me I should talk to a counselor downtown at "teen health" a counseling service for troubled teens..best yet its free!! Well those people convinced me to tell my parents..stupid.
So my mom came down and was finally told..she started bawling and blaming herself...which is why I didn't want her to know in the first place.
They took me to the hospital in Lacrosse which is 30 min away. When I got there they put me in a waiting room for a half hour, and then in a room by myself. Apparently they were expecting me because they had the cops and social workers there waiting to talk to me.
Well I talked to a social worker for 15 minutes and then I sat there for two hours by myself...my parents had to go fill out paper work. Two hours later a cop comes in and asks me to explain "the pills". I couldn't, so he said he was going to put me in the hospital on a Chapter 51..which states if I have intent to harm myself or anything else they can put me in a psych ward against my will. Well, to make a long story even longer I stayed there a week.
It was . Well, after that stay I saw a counselor once a week...who was determined to do a type of counseling which I didn't want anything to do with. Well, during my struggle with my counselor I got worse again. And in March I admitted myself into the hospital again.
This time I got a change in counselors..twice..long story there wont explain. But That was the last time I was in the hospital.
Since then the anxiety has gone down but the suicide thoughts are still there..I should have been admitted twice since then but I will not go in again. It hasn't done anything yet..and I am stubborn.
Why I think this all happened... I think it started when I was 11. At that time, my grandmother and an uncle from the same side of the family, died within a week. A year later my aunt, whom I was also very close to died. Then two of my neighbors, four classmates, two uncles, two more classmates and many more died.
I think that is why I have what they call "s shock". They say only military people have it, but military people also see a lot of death.
Right now, I am in the middle of a rollercoaster. I can't tell which way I am going yet..either up or down. I am not on any medication right now because they were making me worse and I am beginning to hate my current counselor...so right now you all are all I got.
Since I last typed this, I have been hospitalized twice...once on my own terms and another for an OD on flexor. I've been through a lot, so please talk to me if you need help. I hope this is a good explanation of me and what I have been through..any questions let me know...I am not afraid to answer.
..Another Update..(6/28/01)..Since the last time I updated this, which was sometime in November of 2000, I was hospitalized one more time and I have been labeled with a new dx (diagnosis). This is a strange story so I will bore u with it. I don't remember the exact date, It was in April of 2001 I know for sure.
Anyway, I was having a really bad day and I had tried to talk to everyone I know to try to lift me up, but nothing was working. So I went to my last resort, which I will never resort to again. I called a hotline. Instead of a national hotline, I went to a local hotline...BIG MISTAKE. Here's what happened.
I called a place called the "Crisis Connection". I talked with a lady there for a while and she decided I needed higher help. She wanted me to go into a walk in clinic but I was to scared to go outside so she said there was nothing more she could do. Then we hung up. Luckily my therapist at school gave me three crisis phone numbers so I called the next one. This one I should have known I was being set up, but I am blonde and didn't listen. This was someone in an ER. She just referred me to another phone number..the third on my list..and hung up on me. Being as desperate as I was, I called.
They asked me for some very important details and then called the cops behind my back. The cops came talked to me for a few minutes..waited for the ambulance to arrive and then let me go with the ambulance.
I spent 12 hours in the ER with no one to talk to...all I wanted to do was talk to someone. I was admitted after 12 hours and some struggles..The nurses were complete jerks, wouldn't talk to me. This place was totally weird compared to the last two places I was at. This place didn't have groups...it only had occupational therapy and an Education group. This place also diagnosed me with Borderline Personality Disorder.
Finally my therapist agreed back at home that I had "traits", but not the full blown disorder. My doctor back at home is still in denial about this whole thing. Anyway, I was sick of that place after a day so I left after four days. Didn't really help any.
After that my therapist in school and I never really saw eye to eye anymore.
Finally, after three weeks, I got back home. This is when things in therapy really picked up for me. I had a new bond with my old therapist..and I really like her now. We decided that the reason for my depression actually started when I was approximately four. See here's what happened.
My dad was an alcoholic before he was married. When he got married, my mom made him quit drinking...So he stopped. Cold turkey. My therapist says this is where the problem started. He never really had a chance to deal with his alcoholism and took it out on his kids.
When I was four, and my brother was just born, we started going to the baby sitters. My dad would get home two hours before my mom did...so we were alone with him for two hours. During this time...all he could do to keep his sanity is either yell at us or ignore us. Being a daddy's girl and having your father ignore you until u were ten is pretty hard. Then when my mom came home..we would cling on her.
Fortunately, my brother hasn't suffered any effects yet..He just yells back now. So anyway...that has been a huge relief. Now that's what we are working on in therapy and we are also working on educating my parents.Here is my story, it's quite long, but I think it will benefit all ST posters who are faced with the same problem I was....
My birthday is December 11, 1981. I turned 18 in 1999. My whole life I have known something was wrong..just didn't' know what. So the week after my birthday and before christmas, I spent hours on the net looking up stuff on depression and anxiety. When I finally convinced myself that my problem wasn't going away, I talked to my friend and mentor, Karen, DVM veterinarian..about it and she agreed not to tell my parents about my problem and she would go with me to the free clinic to get help. So that week I went to the free clinic, loaded with information about what was bothering me and the doctor agreed to put me on paxil.
Well, I stayed on a low dose of paxil for about three weeks with out anyone but my closest friends knowing. Then I crashed big time. I had the bottle of sleeping pills all ready and all i had to do was get the correct dose.
I experimented and gave out hints to everyone. Finally someone got the message. The guidance counselors in school told me I should talk to a counselor downtown at "teen health" a counseling service for troubled teens..best yet its free!! Well those people convinced me to tell my parents..stupid.
So my mom came down and was finally told..she started bawling and blaming herself...which is why I didn't want her to know in the first place.
They took me to the hospital in Lacrosse which is 30 min away. When I got there they put me in a waiting room for a half hour, and then in a room by myself. Apparently they were expecting me because they had the cops and social workers there waiting to talk to me.
Well I talked to a social worker for 15 minutes and then I sat there for two hours by myself...my parents had to go fill out paper work. Two hours later a cop comes in and asks me to explain "the pills". I couldn't, so he said he was going to put me in the hospital on a Chapter 51..which states if I have intent to harm myself or anything else they can put me in a psych ward against my will. Well, to make a long story even longer I stayed there a week.
It was . Well, after that stay I saw a counselor once a week...who was determined to do a type of counseling which I didn't want anything to do with. Well, during my struggle with my counselor I got worse again. And in March I admitted myself into the hospital again.
This time I got a change in counselors..twice..long story there wont explain. But That was the last time I was in the hospital.
Since then the anxiety has gone down but the suicide thoughts are still there..I should have been admitted twice since then but I will not go in again. It hasn't done anything yet..and I am stubborn.
Why I think this all happened... I think it started when I was 11. At that time, my grandmother and an uncle from the same side of the family, died within a week. A year later my aunt, whom I was also very close to died. Then two of my neighbors, four classmates, two uncles, two more classmates and many more died.
I think that is why I have what they call "s shock". They say only military people have it, but military people also see a lot of death.
Right now, I am in the middle of a rollercoaster. I can't tell which way I am going yet..either up or down. I am not on any medication right now because they were making me worse and I am beginning to hate my current counselor...so right now you all are all I got.
Since I last typed this, I have been hospitalized twice...once on my own terms and another for an OD on flexor. I've been through a lot, so please talk to me if you need help. I hope this is a good explanation of me and what I have been through..any questions let me know...I am not afraid to answer.
..Another Update..(6/28/01)..Since the last time I updated this, which was sometime in November of 2000, I was hospitalized one more time and I have been labeled with a new dx (diagnosis). This is a strange story so I will bore u with it. I don't remember the exact date, It was in April of 2001 I know for sure.
Anyway, I was having a really bad day and I had tried to talk to everyone I know to try to lift me up, but nothing was working. So I went to my last resort, which I will never resort to again. I called a hotline. Instead of a national hotline, I went to a local hotline...BIG MISTAKE. Here's what happened.
I called a place called the "Crisis Connection". I talked with a lady there for a while and she decided I needed higher help. She wanted me to go into a walk in clinic but I was to scared to go outside so she said there was nothing more she could do. Then we hung up. Luckily my therapist at school gave me three crisis phone numbers so I called the next one. This one I should have known I was being set up, but I am blonde and didn't listen. This was someone in an ER. She just referred me to another phone number..the third on my list..and hung up on me. Being as desperate as I was, I called.
They asked me for some very important details and then called the cops behind my back. The cops came talked to me for a few minutes..waited for the ambulance to arrive and then let me go with the ambulance.
I spent 12 hours in the ER with no one to talk to...all I wanted to do was talk to someone. I was admitted after 12 hours and some struggles..The nurses were complete jerks, wouldn't talk to me. This place was totally weird compared to the last two places I was at. This place didn't have groups...it only had occupational therapy and an Education group. This place also diagnosed me with Borderline Personality Disorder.
Finally my therapist agreed back at home that I had "traits", but not the full blown disorder. My doctor back at home is still in denial about this whole thing. Anyway, I was sick of that place after a day so I left after four days. Didn't really help any.
After that my therapist in school and I never really saw eye to eye anymore.
Finally, after three weeks, I got back home. This is when things in therapy really picked up for me. I had a new bond with my old therapist..and I really like her now. We decided that the reason for my depression actually started when I was approximately four. See here's what happened.
My dad was an alcoholic before he was married. When he got married, my mom made him quit drinking...So he stopped. Cold turkey. My therapist says this is where the problem started. He never really had a chance to deal with his alcoholism and took it out on his kids.
When I was four, and my brother was just born, we started going to the baby sitters. My dad would get home two hours before my mom did...so we were alone with him for two hours. During this time...all he could do to keep his sanity is either yell at us or ignore us. Being a daddy's girl and having your father ignore you until u were ten is pretty hard. Then when my mom came home..we would cling on her.
Fortunately, my brother hasn't suffered any effects yet..He just yells back now. So anyway...that has been a huge relief. Now that's what we are working on in therapy and we are also working on educating my parents.Here is my story, it's quite long, but I think it will benefit all ST posters who are faced with the same problem I was....
My birthday is December 11, 1981. I turned 18 in 1999. My whole life I have known something was wrong..just didn't' know what. So the week after my birthday and before christmas, I spent hours on the net looking up stuff on depression and anxiety. When I finally convinced myself that my problem wasn't going away, I talked to my friend and mentor, Karen, DVM veterinarian..about it and she agreed not to tell my parents about my problem and she would go with me to the free clinic to get help. So that week I went to the free clinic, loaded with information about what was bothering me and the doctor agreed to put me on paxil.
Well, I stayed on a low dose of paxil for about three weeks with out anyone but my closest friends knowing. Then I crashed big time. I had the bottle of sleeping pills all ready and all i had to do was get the correct dose.
I experimented and gave out hints to everyone. Finally someone got the message. The guidance counselors in school told me I should talk to a counselor downtown at "teen health" a counseling service for troubled teens..best yet its free!! Well those people convinced me to tell my parents..stupid.
So my mom came down and was finally told..she started bawling and blaming herself...which is why I didn't want her to know in the first place.
They took me to the hospital in Lacrosse which is 30 min away. When I got there they put me in a waiting room for a half hour, and then in a room by myself. Apparently they were expecting me because they had the cops and social workers there waiting to talk to me.
Well I talked to a social worker for 15 minutes and then I sat there for two hours by myself...my parents had to go fill out paper work. Two hours later a cop comes in and asks me to explain "the pills". I couldn't, so he said he was going to put me in the hospital on a Chapter 51..which states if I have intent to harm myself or anything else they can put me in a psych ward against my will. Well, to make a long story even longer I stayed there a week.
It was . Well, after that stay I saw a counselor once a week...who was determined to do a type of counseling which I didn't want anything to do with. Well, during my struggle with my counselor I got worse again. And in March I admitted myself into the hospital again.
This time I got a change in counselors..twice..long story there wont explain. But That was the last time I was in the hospital.
Since then the anxiety has gone down but the suicide thoughts are still there..I should have been admitted twice since then but I will not go in again. It hasn't done anything yet..and I am stubborn.
Why I think this all happened... I think it started when I was 11. At that time, my grandmother and an uncle from the same side of the family, died within a week. A year later my aunt, whom I was also very close to died. Then two of my neighbors, four classmates, two uncles, two more classmates and many more died.
I think that is why I have what they call "s shock". They say only military people have it, but military people also see a lot of death.
Right now, I am in the middle of a rollercoaster. I can't tell which way I am going yet..either up or down. I am not on any medication right now because they were making me worse and I am beginning to hate my current counselor...so right now you all are all I got.
Since I last typed this, I have been hospitalized twice...once on my own terms and another for an OD on flexor. I've been through a lot, so please talk to me if you need help. I hope this is a good explanation of me and what I have been through..any questions let me know...I am not afraid to answer.
..Another Update..(6/28/01)..Since the last time I updated this, which was sometime in November of 2000, I was hospitalized one more time and I have been labeled with a new dx (diagnosis). This is a strange story so I will bore u with it. I don't remember the exact date, It was in April of 2001 I know for sure.
Anyway, I was having a really bad day and I had tried to talk to everyone I know to try to lift me up, but nothing was working. So I went to my last resort, which I will never resort to again. I called a hotline. Instead of a national hotline, I went to a local hotline...BIG MISTAKE. Here's what happened.
I called a place called the "Crisis Connection". I talked with a lady there for a while and she decided I needed higher help. She wanted me to go into a walk in clinic but I was to scared to go outside so she said there was nothing more she could do. Then we hung up. Luckily my therapist at school gave me three crisis phone numbers so I called the next one. This one I should have known I was being set up, but I am blonde and didn't listen. This was someone in an ER. She just referred me to another phone number..the third on my list..and hung up on me. Being as desperate as I was, I called.
They asked me for some very important details and then called the cops behind my back. The cops came talked to me for a few minutes..waited for the ambulance to arrive and then let me go with the ambulance.
I spent 12 hours in the ER with no one to talk to...all I wanted to do was talk to someone. I was admitted after 12 hours and some struggles..The nurses were complete jerks, wouldn't talk to me. This place was totally weird compared to the last two places I was at. This place didn't have groups...it only had occupational therapy and an Education group. This place also diagnosed me with Borderline Personality Disorder.
Finally my therapist agreed back at home that I had "traits", but not the full blown disorder. My doctor back at home is still in denial about this whole thing. Anyway, I was sick of that place after a day so I left after four days. Didn't really help any.
After that my therapist in school and I never really saw eye to eye anymore.
Finally, after three weeks, I got back home. This is when things in therapy really picked up for me. I had a new bond with my old therapist..and I really like her now. We decided that the reason for my depression actually started when I was approximately four. See here's what happened.
My dad was an alcoholic before he was married. When he got married, my mom made him quit drinking...So he stopped. Cold turkey. My therapist says this is where the problem started. He never really had a chance to deal with his alcoholism and took it out on his kids.
When I was four, and my brother was just born, we started going to the baby sitters. My dad would get home two hours before my mom did...so we were alone with him for two hours. During this time...all he could do to keep his sanity is either yell at us or ignore us. Being a daddy's girl and having your father ignore you until u were ten is pretty hard. Then when my mom came home..we would cling on her.
Fortunately, my brother hasn't suffered any effects yet..He just yells back now. So anyway...that has been a huge relief. Now that's what we are working on in therapy and we are also working on educating my parents.Here is my story, it's quite long, but I think it will benefit all ST posters who are faced with the same problem I was....
My birthday is December 11, 1981. I turned 18 in 1999. My whole life I have known something was wrong..just didn't' know what. So the week after my birthday and before christmas, I spent hours on the net looking up stuff on depression and anxiety. When I finally convinced myself that my problem wasn't going away, I talked to my friend and mentor, Karen, DVM veterinarian..about it and she agreed not to tell my parents about my problem and she would go with me to the free clinic to get help. So that week I went to the free clinic, loaded with information about what was bothering me and the doctor agreed to put me on paxil.
Well, I stayed on a low dose of paxil for about three weeks with out anyone but my closest friends knowing. Then I crashed big time. I had the bottle of sleeping pills all ready and all i had to do was get the correct dose.
I experimented and gave out hints to everyone. Finally someone got the message. The guidance counselors in school told me I should talk to a counselor downtown at "teen health" a counseling service for troubled teens..best yet its free!! Well those people convinced me to tell my parents..stupid.
So my mom came down and was finally told..she started bawling and blaming herself...which is why I didn't want her to know in the first place.
They took me to the hospital in Lacrosse which is 30 min away. When I got there they put me in a waiting room for a half hour, and then in a room by myself. Apparently they were expecting me because they had the cops and social workers there waiting to talk to me.
Well I talked to a social worker for 15 minutes and then I sat there for two hours by myself...my parents had to go fill out paper work. Two hours later a cop comes in and asks me to explain "the pills". I couldn't, so he said he was going to put me in the hospital on a Chapter 51..which states if I have intent to harm myself or anything else they can put me in a psych ward against my will. Well, to make a long story even longer I stayed there a week.
It was . Well, after that stay I saw a counselor once a week...who was determined to do a type of counseling which I didn't want anything to do with. Well, during my struggle with my counselor I got worse again. And in March I admitted myself into the hospital again.
This time I got a change in counselors..twice..long story there wont explain. But That was the last time I was in the hospital.
Since then the anxiety has gone down but the suicide thoughts are still there..I should have been admitted twice since then but I will not go in again. It hasn't done anything yet..and I am stubborn.
Why I think this all happened... I think it started when I was 11. At that time, my grandmother and an uncle from the same side of the family, died within a week. A year later my aunt, whom I was also very close to died. Then two of my neighbors, four classmates, two uncles, two more classmates and many more died.
I think that is why I have what they call "s shock". They say only military people have it, but military people also see a lot of death.
Right now, I am in the middle of a rollercoaster. I can't tell which way I am going yet..either up or down. I am not on any medication right now because they were making me worse and I am beginning to hate my current counselor...so right now you all are all I got.
Since I last typed this, I have been hospitalized twice...once on my own terms and another for an OD on flexor. I've been through a lot, so please talk to me if you need help. I hope this is a good explanation of me and what I have been through..any questions let me know...I am not afraid to answer.
..Another Update..(6/28/01)..Since the last time I updated this, which was sometime in November of 2000, I was hospitalized one more time and I have been labeled with a new dx (diagnosis). This is a strange story so I will bore u with it. I don't remember the exact date, It was in April of 2001 I know for sure.
Anyway, I was having a really bad day and I had tried to talk to everyone I know to try to lift me up, but nothing was working. So I went to my last resort, which I will never resort to again. I called a hotline. Instead of a national hotline, I went to a local hotline...BIG MISTAKE. Here's what happened.
I called a place called the "Crisis Connection". I talked with a lady there for a while and she decided I needed higher help. She wanted me to go into a walk in clinic but I was to scared to go outside so she said there was nothing more she could do. Then we hung up. Luckily my therapist at school gave me three crisis phone numbers so I called the next one. This one I should have known I was being set up, but I am blonde and didn't listen. This was someone in an ER. She just referred me to another phone number..the third on my list..and hung up on me. Being as desperate as I was, I called.
They asked me for some very important details and then called the cops behind my back. The cops came talked to me for a few minutes..waited for the ambulance to arrive and then let me go with the ambulance.
I spent 12 hours in the ER with no one to talk to...all I wanted to do was talk to someone. I was admitted after 12 hours and some struggles..The nurses were complete jerks, wouldn't talk to me. This place was totally weird compared to the last two places I was at. This place didn't have groups...it only had occupational therapy and an Education group. This place also diagnosed me with Borderline Personality Disorder.
Finally my therapist agreed back at home that I had "traits", but not the full blown disorder. My doctor back at home is still in denial about this whole thing. Anyway, I was sick of that place after a day so I left after four days. Didn't really help any.
After that my therapist in school and I never really saw eye to eye anymore.
Finally, after three weeks, I got back home. This is when things in therapy really picked up for me. I had a new bond with my old therapist..and I really like her now. We decided that the reason for my depression actually started when I was approximately four. See here's what happened.
My dad was an alcoholic before he was married. When he got married, my mom made him quit drinking...So he stopped. Cold turkey. My therapist says this is where the problem started. He never really had a chance to deal with his alcoholism and took it out on his kids.
When I was four, and my brother was just born, we started going to the baby sitters. My dad would get home two hours before my mom did...so we were alone with him for two hours. During this time...all he could do to keep his sanity is either yell at us or ignore us. Being a daddy's girl and having your father ignore you until u were ten is pretty hard. Then when my mom came home..we would cling on her.
Fortunately, my brother hasn't suffered any effects yet..He just yells back now. So anyway...that has been a huge relief. Now that's what we are working on in therapy and we are also working on educating my parents.Here is my story, it's quite long, but I think it will benefit all ST posters who are faced with the same problem I was....
My birthday is December 11, 1981. I turned 18 in 1999. My whole life I have known something was wrong..just didn't' know what. So the week after my birthday and before christmas, I spent hours on the net looking up stuff on depression and anxiety. When I finally convinced myself that my problem wasn't going away, I talked to my friend and mentor, Karen, DVM veterinarian..about it and she agreed not to tell my parents about my problem and she would go with me to the free clinic to get help. So that week I went to the free clinic, loaded with information about what was bothering me and the doctor agreed to put me on paxil.
Well, I stayed on a low dose of paxil for about three weeks with out anyone but my closest friends knowing. Then I crashed big time. I had the bottle of sleeping pills all ready and all i had to do was get the correct dose.
I experimented and gave out hints to everyone. Finally someone got the message. The guidance counselors in school told me I should talk to a counselor downtown at "teen health" a counseling service for troubled teens..best yet its free!! Well those people convinced me to tell my parents..stupid.
So my mom came down and was finally told..she started bawling and blaming herself...which is why I didn't want her to know in the first place.
They took me to the hospital in Lacrosse which is 30 min away. When I got there they put me in a waiting room for a half hour, and then in a room by myself. Apparently they were expecting me because they had the cops and social workers there waiting to talk to me.
Well I talked to a social worker for 15 minutes and then I sat there for two hours by myself...my parents had to go fill out paper work. Two hours later a cop comes in and asks me to explain "the pills". I couldn't, so he said he was going to put me in the hospital on a Chapter 51..which states if I have intent to harm myself or anything else they can put me in a psych ward against my will. Well, to make a long story even longer I stayed there a week.
It was . Well, after that stay I saw a counselor once a week...who was determined to do a type of counseling which I didn't want anything to do with. Well, during my struggle with my counselor I got worse again. And in March I admitted myself into the hospital again.
This time I got a change in counselors..twice..long story there wont explain. But That was the last time I was in the hospital.
Since then the anxiety has gone down but the suicide thoughts are still there..I should have been admitted twice since then but I will not go in again. It hasn't done anything yet..and I am stubborn.
Why I think this all happened... I think it started when I was 11. At that time, my grandmother and an uncle from the same side of the family, died within a week. A year later my aunt, whom I was also very close to died. Then two of my neighbors, four classmates, two uncles, two more classmates and many more died.
I think that is why I have what they call "s shock". They say only military people have it, but military people also see a lot of death.
Right now, I am in the middle of a rollercoaster. I can't tell which way I am going yet..either up or down. I am not on any medication right now because they were making me worse and I am beginning to hate my current counselor...so right now you all are all I got.
Since I last typed this, I have been hospitalized twice...once on my own terms and another for an OD on flexor. I've been through a lot, so please talk to me if you need help. I hope this is a good explanation of me and what I have been through..any questions let me know...I am not afraid to answer.
..Another Update..(6/28/01)..Since the last time I updated this, which was sometime in November of 2000, I was hospitalized one more time and I have been labeled with a new dx (diagnosis). This is a strange story so I will bore u with it. I don't remember the exact date, It was in April of 2001 I know for sure.
Anyway, I was having a really bad day and I had tried to talk to everyone I know to try to lift me up, but nothing was working. So I went to my last resort, which I will never resort to again. I called a hotline. Instead of a national hotline, I went to a local hotline...BIG MISTAKE. Here's what happened.
I called a place called the "Crisis Connection". I talked with a lady there for a while and she decided I needed higher help. She wanted me to go into a walk in clinic but I was to scared to go outside so she said there was nothing more she could do. Then we hung up. Luckily my therapist at school gave me three crisis phone numbers so I called the next one. This one I should have known I was being set up, but I am blonde and didn't listen. This was someone in an ER. She just referred me to another phone number..the third on my list..and hung up on me. Being as desperate as I was, I called.
They asked me for some very important details and then called the cops behind my back. The cops came talked to me for a few minutes..waited for the ambulance to arrive and then let me go with the ambulance.
I spent 12 hours in the ER with no one to talk to...all I wanted to do was talk to someone. I was admitted after 12 hours and some struggles..The nurses were complete jerks, wouldn't talk to me. This place was totally weird compared to the last two places I was at. This place didn't have groups...it only had occupational therapy and an Education group. This place also diagnosed me with Borderline Personality Disorder.
Finally my therapist agreed back at home that I had "traits", but not the full blown disorder. My doctor back at home is still in denial about this whole thing. Anyway, I was sick of that place after a day so I left after four days. Didn't really help any.
After that my therapist in school and I never really saw eye to eye anymore.
Finally, after three weeks, I got back home. This is when things in therapy really picked up for me. I had a new bond with my old therapist..and I really like her now. We decided that the reason for my depression actually started when I was approximately four. See here's what happened.
My dad was an alcoholic before he was married. When he got married, my mom made him quit drinking...So he stopped. Cold turkey. My therapist says this is where the problem started. He never really had a chance to deal with his alcoholism and took it out on his kids.
When I was four, and my brother was just born, we started going to the baby sitters. My dad would get home two hours before my mom did...so we were alone with him for two hours. During this time...all he could do to keep his sanity is either yell at us or ignore us. Being a daddy's girl and having your father ignore you until u were ten is pretty hard. Then when my mom came home..we would cling on her.
Fortunately, my brother hasn't suffered any effects yet..He just yells back now. So anyway...that has been a huge relief. Now that's what we are working on in therapy and we are also working on educating my parents.Here is my story, it's quite long, but I think it will benefit all ST posters who are faced with the same problem I was....
My birthday is December 11, 1981. I turned 18 in 1999. My whole life I have known something was wrong..just didn't' know what. So the week after my birthday and before christmas, I spent hours on the net looking up stuff on depression and anxiety. When I finally convinced myself that my problem wasn't going away, I talked to my friend and mentor, Karen, DVM veterinarian..about it and she agreed not to tell my parents about my problem and she would go with me to the free clinic to get help. So that week I went to the free clinic, loaded with information about what was bothering me and the doctor agreed to put me on paxil.
Well, I stayed on a low dose of paxil for about three weeks with out anyone but my closest friends knowing. Then I crashed big time. I had the bottle of sleeping pills all ready and all i had to do was get the correct dose.
I experimented and gave out hints to everyone. Finally someone got the message. The guidance counselors in school told me I should talk to a counselor downtown at "teen health" a counseling service for troubled teens..best yet its free!! Well those people convinced me to tell my parents..stupid.
So my mom came down and was finally told..she started bawling and blaming herself...which is why I didn't want her to know in the first place.
They took me to the hospital in Lacrosse which is 30 min away. When I got there they put me in a waiting room for a half hour, and then in a room by myself. Apparently they were expecting me because they had the cops and social workers there waiting to talk to me.
Well I talked to a social worker for 15 minutes and then I sat there for two hours by myself...my parents had to go fill out paper work. Two hours later a cop comes in and asks me to explain "the pills". I couldn't, so he said he was going to put me in the hospital on a Chapter 51..which states if I have intent to harm myself or anything else they can put me in a psych ward against my will. Well, to make a long story even longer I stayed there a week.
It was . Well, after that stay I saw a counselor once a week...who was determined to do a type of counseling which I didn't want anything to do with. Well, during my struggle with my counselor I got worse again. And in March I admitted myself into the hospital again.
This time I got a change in counselors..twice..long story there wont explain. But That was the last time I was in the hospital.
Since then the anxiety has gone down but the suicide thoughts are still there..I should have been admitted twice since then but I will not go in again. It hasn't done anything yet..and I am stubborn.
Why I think this all happened... I think it started when I was 11. At that time, my grandmother and an uncle from the same side of the family, died within a week. A year later my aunt, whom I was also very close to died. Then two of my neighbors, four classmates, two uncles, two more classmates and many more died.
I think that is why I have what they call "s shock". They say only military people have it, but military people also see a lot of death.
Right now, I am in the middle of a rollercoaster. I can't tell which way I am going yet..either up or down. I am not on any medication right now because they were making me worse and I am beginning to hate my current counselor...so right now you all are all I got.
Since I last typed this, I have been hospitalized twice...once on my own terms and another for an OD on flexor. I've been through a lot, so please talk to me if you need help. I hope this is a good explanation of me and what I have been through..any questions let me know...I am not afraid to answer.
..Another Update..(6/28/01)..Since the last time I updated this, which was sometime in November of 2000, I was hospitalized one more time and I have been labeled with a new dx (diagnosis). This is a strange story so I will bore u with it. I don't remember the exact date, It was in April of 2001 I know for sure.
Anyway, I was having a really bad day and I had tried to talk to everyone I know to try to lift me up, but nothing was working. So I went to my last resort, which I will never resort to again. I called a hotline. Instead of a national hotline, I went to a local hotline...BIG MISTAKE. Here's what happened.
I called a place called the "Crisis Connection". I talked with a lady there for a while and she decided I needed higher help. She wanted me to go into a walk in clinic but I was to scared to go outside so she said there was nothing more she could do. Then we hung up. Luckily my therapist at school gave me three crisis phone numbers so I called the next one. This one I should have known I was being set up, but I am blonde and didn't listen. This was someone in an ER. She just referred me to another phone number..the third on my list..and hung up on me. Being as desperate as I was, I called.
They asked me for some very important details and then called the cops behind my back. The cops came talked to me for a few minutes..waited for the ambulance to arrive and then let me go with the ambulance.
I spent 12 hours in the ER with no one to talk to...all I wanted to do was talk to someone. I was admitted after 12 hours and some struggles..The nurses were complete jerks, wouldn't talk to me. This place was totally weird compared to the last two places I was at. This place didn't have groups...it only had occupational therapy and an Education group. This place also diagnosed me with Borderline Personality Disorder.
Finally my therapist agreed back at home that I had "traits", but not the full blown disorder. My doctor back at home is still in denial about this whole thing. Anyway, I was sick of that place after a day so I left after four days. Didn't really help any.
After that my therapist in school and I never really saw eye to eye anymore.
Finally, after three weeks, I got back home. This is when things in therapy really picked up for me. I had a new bond with my old therapist..and I really like her now. We decided that the reason for my depression actually started when I was approximately four. See here's what happened.
My dad was an alcoholic before he was married. When he got married, my mom made him quit drinking...So he stopped. Cold turkey. My therapist says this is where the problem started. He never really had a chance to deal with his alcoholism and took it out on his kids.
When I was four, and my brother was just born, we started going to the baby sitters. My dad would get home two hours before my mom did...so we were alone with him for two hours. During this time...all he could do to keep his sanity is either yell at us or ignore us. Being a daddy's girl and having your father ignore you until u were ten is pretty hard. Then when my mom came home..we would cling on her.
Fortunately, my brother hasn't suffered any effects yet..He just yells back now. So anyway...that has been a huge relief. Now that's what we are working on in therapy and we are also working on educating my parents.Here is my story, it's quite long, but I think it will benefit all ST posters who are faced with the same problem I was....
My birthday is December 11, 1981. I turned 18 in 1999. My whole life I have known something was wrong..just didn't' know what. So the week after my birthday and before christmas, I spent hours on the net looking up stuff on depression and anxiety. When I finally convinced myself that my problem wasn't going away, I talked to my friend and mentor, Karen, DVM veterinarian..about it and she agreed not to tell my parents about my problem and she would go with me to the free clinic to get help. So that week I went to the free clinic, loaded with information about what was bothering me and the doctor agreed to put me on paxil.
Well, I stayed on a low dose of paxil for about three weeks with out anyone but my closest friends knowing. Then I crashed big time. I had the bottle of sleeping pills all ready and all i had to do was get the correct dose.
I experimented and gave out hints to everyone. Finally someone got the message. The guidance counselors in school told me I should talk to a counselor downtown at "teen health" a counseling service for troubled teens..best yet its free!! Well those people convinced me to tell my parents..stupid.
So my mom came down and was finally told..she started bawling and blaming herself...which is why I didn't want her to know in the first place.
They took me to the hospital in Lacrosse which is 30 min away. When I got there they put me in a waiting room for a half hour, and then in a room by myself. Apparently they were expecting me because they had the cops and social workers there waiting to talk to me.
Well I talked to a social worker for 15 minutes and then I sat there for two hours by myself...my parents had to go fill out paper work. Two hours later a cop comes in and asks me to explain "the pills". I couldn't, so he said he was going to put me in the hospital on a Chapter 51..which states if I have intent to harm myself or anything else they can put me in a psych ward against my will. Well, to make a long story even longer I stayed there a week.
It was . Well, after that stay I saw a counselor once a week...who was determined to do a type of counseling which I didn't want anything to do with. Well, during my struggle with my counselor I got worse again. And in March I admitted myself into the hospital again.
This time I got a change in counselors..twice..long story there wont explain. But That was the last time I was in the hospital.
Since then the anxiety has gone down but the suicide thoughts are still there..I should have been admitted twice since then but I will not go in again. It hasn't done anything yet..and I am stubborn.
Why I think this all happened... I think it started when I was 11. At that time, my grandmother and an uncle from the same side of the family, died within a week. A year later my aunt, whom I was also very close to died. Then two of my neighbors, four classmates, two uncles, two more classmates and many more died.
I think that is why I have what they call "s shock". They say only military people have it, but military people also see a lot of death.
Right now, I am in the middle of a rollercoaster. I can't tell which way I am going yet..either up or down. I am not on any medication right now because they were making me worse and I am beginning to hate my current counselor...so right now you all are all I got.
Since I last typed this, I have been hospitalized twice...once on my own terms and another for an OD on flexor. I've been through a lot, so please talk to me if you need help. I hope this is a good explanation of me and what I have been through..any questions let me know...I am not afraid to answer.
..Another Update..(6/28/01)..Since the last time I updated this, which was sometime in November of 2000, I was hospitalized one more time and I have been labeled with a new dx (diagnosis). This is a strange story so I will bore u with it. I don't remember the exact date, It was in April of 2001 I know for sure.
Anyway, I was having a really bad day and I had tried to talk to everyone I know to try to lift me up, but nothing was working. So I went to my last resort, which I will never resort to again. I called a hotline. Instead of a national hotline, I went to a local hotline...BIG MISTAKE. Here's what happened.
I called a place called the "Crisis Connection". I talked with a lady there for a while and she decided I needed higher help. She wanted me to go into a walk in clinic but I was to scared to go outside so she said there was nothing more she could do. Then we hung up. Luckily my therapist at school gave me three crisis phone numbers so I called the next one. This one I should have known I was being set up, but I am blonde and didn't listen. This was someone in an ER. She just referred me to another phone number..the third on my list..and hung up on me. Being as desperate as I was, I called.
They asked me for some very important details and then called the cops behind my back. The cops came talked to me for a few minutes..waited for the ambulance to arrive and then let me go with the ambulance.
I spent 12 hours in the ER with no one to talk to...all I wanted to do was talk to someone. I was admitted after 12 hours and some struggles..The nurses were complete jerks, wouldn't talk to me. This place was totally weird compared to the last two places I was at. This place didn't have groups...it only had occupational therapy and an Education group. This place also diagnosed me with Borderline Personality Disorder.
Finally my therapist agreed back at home that I had "traits", but not the full blown disorder. My doctor back at home is still in denial about this whole thing. Anyway, I was sick of that place after a day so I left after four days. Didn't really help any.
After that my therapist in school and I never really saw eye to eye anymore.
Finally, after three weeks, I got back home. This is when things in therapy really picked up for me. I had a new bond with my old therapist..and I really like her now. We decided that the reason for my depression actually started when I was approximately four. See here's what happened.
My dad was an alcoholic before he was married. When he got married, my mom made him quit drinking...So he stopped. Cold turkey. My therapist says this is where the problem started. He never really had a chance to deal with his alcoholism and took it out on his kids.
When I was four, and my brother was just born, we started going to the baby sitters. My dad would get home two hours before my mom did...so we were alone with him for two hours. During this time...all he could do to keep his sanity is either yell at us or ignore us. Being a daddy's girl and having your father ignore you until u were ten is pretty hard. Then when my mom came home..we would cling on her.
Fortunately, my brother hasn't suffered any effects yet..He just yells back now. So anyway...that has been a huge relief. Now that's what we are working on in therapy and we are also working on educating my parents.Here is my story, it's quite long, but I think it will benefit all ST posters who are faced with the same problem I was....
My birthday is December 11, 1981. I turned 18 in 1999. My whole life I have known something was wrong..just didn't' know what. So the week after my birthday and before christmas, I spent hours on the net looking up stuff on depression and anxiety. When I finally convinced myself that my problem wasn't going away, I talked to my friend and mentor, Karen, DVM veterinarian..about it and she agreed not to tell my parents about my problem and she would go with me to the free clinic to get help. So that week I went to the free clinic, loaded with information about what was bothering me and the doctor agreed to put me on paxil.
Well, I stayed on a low dose of paxil for about three weeks with out anyone but my closest friends knowing. Then I crashed big time. I had the bottle of sleeping pills all ready and all i had to do was get the correct dose.
I experimented and gave out hints to everyone. Finally someone got the message. The guidance counselors in school told me I should talk to a counselor downtown at "teen health" a counseling service for troubled teens..best yet its free!! Well those people convinced me to tell my parents..stupid.
So my mom came down and was finally told..she started bawling and blaming herself...which is why I didn't want her to know in the first place.
They took me to the hospital in Lacrosse which is 30 min away. When I got there they put me in a waiting room for a half hour, and then in a room by myself. Apparently they were expecting me because they had the cops and social workers there waiting to talk to me.
Well I talked to a social worker for 15 minutes and then I sat there for two hours by myself...my parents had to go fill out paper work. Two hours later a cop comes in and asks me to explain "the pills". I couldn't, so he said he was going to put me in the hospital on a Chapter 51..which states if I have intent to harm myself or anything else they can put me in a psych ward against my will. Well, to make a long story even longer I stayed there a week.
It was . Well, after that stay I saw a counselor once a week...who was determined to do a type of counseling which I didn't want anything to do with. Well, during my struggle with my counselor I got worse again. And in March I admitted myself into the hospital again.
This time I got a change in counselors..twice..long story there wont explain. But That was the last time I was in the hospital.
Since then the anxiety has gone down but the suicide thoughts are still there..I should have been admitted twice since then but I will not go in again. It hasn't done anything yet..and I am stubborn.
Why I think this all happened... I think it started when I was 11. At that time, my grandmother and an uncle from the same side of the family, died within a week. A year later my aunt, whom I was also very close to died. Then two of my neighbors, four classmates, two uncles, two more classmates and many more died.
I think that is why I have what they call "s shock". They say only military people have it, but military people also see a lot of death.
Right now, I am in the middle of a rollercoaster. I can't tell which way I am going yet..either up or down. I am not on any medication right now because they were making me worse and I am beginning to hate my current counselor...so right now you all are all I got.
Since I last typed this, I have been hospitalized twice...once on my own terms and another for an OD on flexor. I've been through a lot, so please talk to me if you need help. I hope this is a good explanation of me and what I have been through..any questions let me know...I am not afraid to answer.
..Another Update..(6/28/01)..Since the last time I updated this, which was sometime in November of 2000, I was hospitalized one more time and I have been labeled with a new dx (diagnosis). This is a strange story so I will bore u with it. I don't remember the exact date, It was in April of 2001 I know for sure.
Anyway, I was having a really bad day and I had tried to talk to everyone I know to try to lift me up, but nothing was working. So I went to my last resort, which I will never resort to again. I called a hotline. Instead of a national hotline, I went to a local hotline...BIG MISTAKE. Here's what happened.
I called a place called the "Crisis Connection". I talked with a lady there for a while and she decided I needed higher help. She wanted me to go into a walk in clinic but I was to scared to go outside so she said there was nothing more she could do. Then we hung up. Luckily my therapist at school gave me three crisis phone numbers so I called the next one. This one I should have known I was being set up, but I am blonde and didn't listen. This was someone in an ER. She just referred me to another phone number..the third on my list..and hung up on me. Being as desperate as I was, I called.
They asked me for some very important details and then called the cops behind my back. The cops came talked to me for a few minutes..waited for the ambulance to arrive and then let me go with the ambulance.
I spent 12 hours in the ER with no one to talk to...all I wanted to do was talk to someone. I was admitted after 12 hours and some struggles..The nurses were complete jerks, wouldn't talk to me. This place was totally weird compared to the last two places I was at. This place didn't have groups...it only had occupational therapy and an Education group. This place also diagnosed me with Borderline Personality Disorder.
Finally my therapist agreed back at home that I had "traits", but not the full blown disorder. My doctor back at home is still in denial about this whole thing. Anyway, I was sick of that place after a day so I left after four days. Didn't really help any.
After that my therapist in school and I never really saw eye to eye anymore.
Finally, after three weeks, I got back home. This is when things in therapy really picked up for me. I had a new bond with my old therapist..and I really like her now. We decided that the reason for my depression actually started when I was approximately four. See here's what happened.
My dad was an alcoholic before he was married. When he got married, my mom made him quit drinking...So he stopped. Cold turkey. My therapist says this is where the problem started. He never really had a chance to deal with his alcoholism and took it out on his kids.
When I was four, and my brother was just born, we started going to the baby sitters. My dad would get home two hours before my mom did...so we were alone with him for two hours. During this time...all he could do to keep his sanity is either yell at us or ignore us. Being a daddy's girl and having your father ignore you until u were ten is pretty hard. Then when my mom came home..we would cling on her.
Fortunately, my brother hasn't suffered any effects yet..He just yells back now. So anyway...that has been a huge relief. Now that's what we are working on in therapy and we are also working on educating my parents.
